A Ghost in the Hall
by Les Yeux Violets
Summary: Orithyia has caught the eyes of Boreas, the god of the cold north wind. However, when she denies his advances out of fear, he decides to take her by force, as violence felt more natural to him. Can she escape such a dangerous man, or will she fail?
1. a ghost in the woods

**_.1 a ghost in the woods_**

Once again, it was winter in Athens. However, this time it was different: it snowed. Rarely did this ever happen, and all the people in the city, young and old, went out and admired the flurry that lasted for only the morning.

"Orithyia!" someone shouted.

A young girl of sixteen turned at the sound of her name and had flakes of snow blown in her face. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was her younger sister who had done the mischievous deed. "Creusa!" Before Orithyia could have her revenge, the other girl ran off giggling. "I'm going to catch you for that!" the older sister hollered, wiping the remaining flecks of snow from her cheeks. Through the pale fields the two girls skirted, laughing and squealing, as one chased the other with a handful of snow.

"Try and catch me then!" teased a voice over the hill.

Oh, she was _so_ going to get it, thought Orithyia, pushing her legs to run even faster. As she scurried up the hill, the beauty of the surrounding landscape came into view, and she stopped in awe at the black and white world before her, snow sifting through her fingers until no more.

Fields of tall grass stretched into the brooding horizon, bending at the wake of the wind. In the distance, she saw the fleeting figure of her sister nearing the edge of the murky woods. However, the most breathtaking sight was behind Orithyia. Athens, usually bathed in gold by the rays of the sun god Helios, was now a city of ivory swathed in fog. Every so often, the roofs of houses would sparkle as snow reflected the light from the sun. In how many years would she see such work of nature again?

"Orithyia!" The sound of her sister's voice faintly reached her ears. Creusa madly waved from afar before calling out to her again. Snapped from her daze, Orithyia resumed her pursuit, vengeance forgotten, and in a short while caught up with her younger sister, who was no longer running.

"What were you doing?" Creusa giggled. "Did you see something in the woods? Or did you suddenly have some sort of premonition from the gods?"

The older sister reclined on a soft bed of dying grass and smiled up at her sibling. "Yes, Creusa, I had a premonition from the gods," she replied sarcastically.

The eyes of the eleven-year-old girl widened. "You're not serious!"

Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, Orithyia laughed heartedly, amused at the naivety of her sister. "No silly!" she said, then patted the space next to her, "Now, come and lie down with me so we can watch the clouds."

Creusa obeyed. However, in less than a minute, she complained, "Orithyia, the clouds are boring. It's just a dark blanket across the sky without any shapes."

True. In fact, Orithyia never intended to look up at the sky. She just wanted to close her eyes and bask in the cool breeze of winter. Watching clouds was just an excuse to get her sister to lie down with her.

Grabbing Creusa's wrist, as if afraid she would leave, Orithyia implored her, "Oh, Creusa, just stay here like this with me. It's so nice outside." Hearing a slight moan of displeasure, the older girl turned and embraced her sister lovingly. "Please?"

Creusa tilted her head and looked over at the hills with longing. "I rather go pick flowers though."

Orithyia pouted but couldn't bear to deny her sister of anything. "All right," she agreed loosening her hold a bit, "but come back to get me before you leave. I don't want to be here alone, especially in the dark."

"Of course! Which sister do you think I am? I am not Procris," she said the last word resentfully.

Orithyia pulled her sister closer and nuzzled her nose with her own. "I know that, and that's why I enjoy being with you more!"

"You better!"

"But Chthonia seems more fun." A tone of facetiousness played along each word.

"You, cat!" Creusa retorted at the sound of their youngest sister's name. "She never leaves Mother's side. How is she ever fun?"

Orithyia yelped as she was poked in the ribs and poked Creusa back in her stomach. Soon, a battle ensued as poking turned into tickling. Shrieks of laughter filled the air. The sisters pitched back and forth, soil and snow clinging to their attire, but soon the older turned on her back, clearly losing, as the younger continued her attack.

"Stop," Orithyia choked out in between giggles, "I- I can't breathe!"

"Apologize then!"

"All right, all right!" Her hands groped for her sister's fingers unsuccessfully.

"I didn't hear the magic words," Creusa said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm sorry!" Immediately, the onslaught ceased. Creusa rolled off gleefully while Orithyia panted with a hand on her chest.

"You know," Creusa said, "I don't feel like getting up to pick flowers anymore. I'm much too tired now." From the corner of her eye, she saw her sister trying to suppress a guilty smile. "This is your fault."

"Good then," Orithyia replied in a very pleased manner and slipped her hand into her sister's. All was silent afterwards.

Closing her eyes, Orithyia relished the sensation of the wind. It danced about her lithely, lifting the dark curls of her hair and slipping through her woolen tunic. Her skin trembled at the sensuous experience. All the while, the grass wavered around her, producing a _swish-swish _sound. It was so peaceful here, such a contrast to the turmoil within the palace. If only . . . .

"The banquet!" Creusa sprang up and exclaimed. "Orithyia, we forgot about the banquet!"

Orithyia languidly opened her eyes half-way and from the position of the sun saw that it was past three -most likely almost four- in the afternoon. Was it already that late? She and Creusa had left the palace about an hour after lunch, but it felt like only minutes ago.

"Get up, get up, get up!" Her sister shook her side fervently. "You don't want Father to be angry at us."

Slowly, Orithyia sat up with her arms, and her gray eyes roamed the fields, trying to take in as much of the beautiful scenery as possible. Would the snow still be here tomorrow?

_Orithyia._

The older girl flicked her head in the direction of her sister. "Hmm?"

"What?" Creusa, who was now standing, looked down at her sister quizzically while combing her hair with her fingers.

"Didn't you say my name?"

Tossing away a piece of twig that had weaved itself into her strands, she replied, "Um, no."

Orithyia tipped her head to the side and furrowed her brows in confusion. "Oh." Then, not wanting to waste any more time, she stood up as well. As she dusted off her clothes, Orithyia glanced about her one last time. Her eyes unexpectedly skimmed over something in the woods.

For a second, she saw a man with feathery white hair lying limply on his back atop a dark branch. One arm rested on his forehead while the other dangled off the side. Ice-blue eyes pierced right at hers like those of a wolf. His pose uncannily resembled that of a corpse which had died with its eyes open.

Automatically, Orithyia shifted her gaze back: nothing. Refusing to believe that her eyes could have played a trick on her, she continued to survey the trees. For the first time, she realized how macabre the woods appeared up close during winter. For miles, leafless limbs clawed at the sky menacingly as knobby roots infested the ground like deformed veins. A chain of mist ensnared the ancient trunks. Perhaps she saw a ghost? Goose bumps prickled along her forearms at this thought.

Nonsense, she thought to herself. In the gloomy haze of the woods, any number of shapes could have formed itself in the quick passing of the eyes. Yet, as Orithyia assured herself this, she couldn't help but feel that the person she saw was very real. Though not in the most absolute detail, her mind could conjure the appearance of the man vividly. Even now, she could sense someone watching her –or maybe this was all psychological –and shuddered as those frightening blue eyes flashed into her thoughts.

Orithyia suddenly perceived how close she was to one of the trees that lined the edge of the woods. Only just earlier, she had wanted to stay longer, but now she was eager to leave. Turning to her sister, she prompted, "Ready?"

Creusa was gone.

Her heart began pounding in alarm when an explosion of giggles pulled Orithyia's attention ahead of her. "Creusa!" she cried, eyes wide. "You left me!"

The younger girl stood at the base of the hill not far away. "That's because you were too slow!" she yelled back. Then, smiling like a fox, she ran up the ashen mound, looking back to see if her sister followed her–or to be more exact, chased her.

Orithyia gasped at the audacity of her sister. "How dare you!" At that, she lifted the hood of her cloak over her head and ran after her sister –away from the woods.

* * *

**A/N: **So, I wanted to write something a little different. Every time I visit the Mythology section, I always see at least three stories about Persephone and Hades. Therefore, I decided to write the myth of Orithyia and Boreas, which is also along the lines of abduction/rape. Yes, it's a real Greek myth. Look it up if you don't believe me! I know that this chapter is short, but I promise that it will get longer as the story progresses. After all, this is only the beginning. Also, since this is my first story on FF, I would greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticisms. As always, thank you for reading! xD


	2. a demon in my view

_**2. a demon in my view**_

"Where were you two?" Procris asked casually as her ring finger smudge away an eyeliner error in the mirror.

"Playing in the fields," replied Creusa. She lay on a red couch, observing the ceiling, and waited for her hair to dry.

Procris could really care less about where her two sisters went. "So," she started, "guess who's going to be the guest of honors at the banquet tonight." A sly smile formed on her lips as she slipped her gold hoop earrings on.

"Who?" asked Orithyia, throwing a glance at her, as she browsed through the wardrobe.

"Cephalus!" the twenty-year-old girl squealed. Her eyes flickered to the reactions of her two younger sisters in the mirror.

"Never heard of him," chirped Creusa.

The eldest sister whirled around in her seat aghast, the fingers of her right hand lightly touching her chest. "You've never heard of him?"

Orithyia pulled out a dress, flipped it around, and saw that it bared the entire back. Grimacing, she put it back. "Me neither."

"You two should associate with other girls more besides each other. That way, you wouldn't be so behind on the news," scolded Procris with a pointed finger. Turning around to admire herself in the mirror, she went on, "Anyways, this man, Cephalus, is the prince of Phocis and is rumored to be the grandson of Aeolus, the god of all the winds. Apparently, he's so handsome that even Eos, the goddess of dawn, wanted him for herself!" She stopped and exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding, then continued, "Not only is he dining with us tonight, he'll also be residing here in the palace for _three days_!" She seemed to almost swoon from her own excitement.

During this time, Creusa caught Orithyia's eyes and began mocking Procris with exaggerated facial expressions and ridiculous hand gestures.

Orithyia suppressed the urge to giggle as she walked behind a folding screen to change, finally finding something to her liking: a tunic that bared one side of her shoulders. "And how does father know him?"

Procris shrugged nonchalantly, then proceeded to bound up her lustrous waves. "You know, I am _so _glad to be a princess. With me around, none of those girls will dare approach Cephalus." Her last few words held a venomous tone. Latching the last clip in, she stood up, then twirled around, the hem of her gorgeous creamy dress rustling about her ankles. "How do I look?" she asked, grazing her chin along her shoulder.

"Ready to seduce someone," snickered Creusa.

Procris actually took that as a compliment, "You think so?" She cocked her head back at the mirror and slowly devoured her image with her eyes.

Creusa scowled and turned her body opposite of Procris, shuddering as if about to throw up.

"Isn't that slit a little too high?" questioned Orithyia, arching a slim eyebrow. Her fingers fumbled at the clasp on her right shoulder as she walked back into the living room that connected all the sisters' bedrooms.

Procris held her wrists above her head and extended her right leg out. The solid line of skin stopped at the hips, then broke into shapes of diamonds as thin fibers criss-crossed up to the edge of her tube dress. "Not really," she piped.

Curious, Creusa peeked behind her. "You remind me of those ladies who stand outside the taverns in the marketplace," she commented innocuously. This prompted a horrified and incredulous look from Orithyia.

Procris whipped her head around. "Excuseme?"

Immediately, Creusa dived into the cushions. "Nothing," she squeaked.

Procris narrowed her cat-like eyes suspiciously, then shifted her gaze to Orithyia. "Oh," she exclaimed with a clap of the hands, "you're wearing my old tunic, how lovely. You almost look as pretty as I did."

Orithyia smiled awkwardly. How was she supposed to respond to that? Was that supposed to be . . . a compliment?

"Well," quipped Creusa, "I personally think she looks better in it than you did." Procris snorted, obviously deeming her younger sister's opinion worthless. However, the younger girl went on, "I mean, Procris, you look so much better in those revealing outfits. It _really_ shows off your curves."

At this, Procris beamed, not catching on to the sarcasm. "Why, thank you, Creusa." Observing the mirror one last time, she announced, "I better leave now since I want the first woman that Cephalus encounters to be me. Ugh, there must be a crowd of rabid fangirls waiting at the entrance by now." Adjusting her dress, she continued, "Did you know that there were two or three of them already outside the gates this morning? Pathetic." Her smirk twisted into a cheeky smile as she turned to her sisters. "Anyway, I'll see you two in the grand chamber later. Bye!" With a short wave, she swung open the door and skipped out.

Just as Creusa was about to explode with exasperation, Procris popped back in again. As a result, a very constipated-looking girl occupied the couch. "Oh, simply wanted to remind you two: Cephalus is mine. I hope you guys caught on by now. Stay away from him, okay? Bye!" Procris was then off again, not bothering to check if her sisters thought otherwise of her request.

The room was silent for a few seconds. In the meantime, Orithyia was trying very hard not to have a hysteric at seeing her younger sister's odd expression when Procris had barged back into the room. Nevertheless, she failed when Creusa jumped up and cried, "Finally!"

The younger girl tramped over to the now-vacant bureau and plopped down on the seat. With a round brush, she violently attacked her auburn locks. "I really hope she gets married to this guy so she can move away already."

"Oh, come on," Orithyia said off-handedly, rushing to her younger sister's side, "she's not that bad." To be honest, Procris was, but Orithyia disliked hearing ill of another person, especially someone of their own blood, specifically their own sister. Weren't sisters supposed to rely on each other, not despise each other?

Creusa only rolled her eyes in response.

As Orithyia slipped on a silver arm bangle, the door creaked open. Creusa's eyes widened, ardently hoping it was not a certain someone. Instead, a small, giggling girl zipped in.

"Chthonia!" Creusa cried, extending her arms. The little girl leapt –literally –onto her, almost bashing her tiny head in Creusa's.

Orithyia gasped, feigning a hurt expression. "What about me, Chthonia?" At that, the four-year-old girl turned and practically fell onto Orithyia's lap, bubbling with laughter.

"Girls," came a sweet sound. Their mother, Queen Praxithea, strolled in, carrying a regal yet benevolent aura. "Are you ready?"

"Almost," chirped Creusa. "We just need to do our hair." Unlike their eldest sister, Creusa and Orithyia did not use cosmetics, for their mother felt that none of her daughters needed it. Nevertheless, when Procris insisted, the Queen allowed it, deciding that her oldest daughter was mature enough to make her own choices.

The elegant women approached Orithyia and Creusa, a warm smile upon her face. "You two look beautiful," she murmured, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads. Chthonia pouted in jealousy and therefore received a kiss too. Bending back up, Praxithea looked around the room as her brows furrowed. "Where's Procris?"

"She left already," chimed Creusa, "in a hurry to meet that guy, uh, Cephalapod."

"Cephalus," corrected Orithyia.

"Yeah, him."

"I see," responded their mother pensively. Slipping the fingers of her right hand through the older girl's strands, she suggested, "Orithyia, let me arrange your hair while you fix Creusa's. That way, we'll save time."

"Of course." Orithyia bounced in her seat excitedly. She loved it when Mother did things for her.

Half an hour later, they were done, and the Queen and her three daughters shuffled down the corridor leading to the grand chamber. As the light at the entrance became brighter, the echoes of merriment in the hallway became louder. Bronze cups collided; men howled; lyres strummed and flutes whistled. As the room came into view, so did all sorts of people and all sorts of decorations. It was wild. It was majestic. It was a banquet hosted by King Erechtheus himself.

Immediately upon entering, Orithyia felt her cheeks burn as the eyes of men penetrated her, similar to a million arrows released on a target, and cast her eyes down on the ground to avoid their gaze, following the footsteps of Creusa. Like Procris, she was old enough to be available for suitors, but Orithyia didn't want to marry yet. The thought of leaving her family upset her. Maybe she should just become a priestess in the temple of Athena. In this case, marriage would be forbidden, but that was a sacrifice she would be willing to make in order to be near her family. Father had said he supported this idea, thinking it splendid to have a family member dedicate her life to the patron deity of Athens. Perhaps this was her fate.

Creusa's feet scuttled to a stop. Orithyia looked up and saw that they were at their seats –ordinarily their brothers' seats, but since Cecrops, Pandorus, and Metion were away at boarding school, the seats were now open to the sisters. As Orithyia took her place at the long table, she noticed a flaxen-haired man seated between Procris and their father. This must be Cephalus.

Indeed, he was remarkably handsome, and Orithyia found herself captivated by the way his blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. Her heart leapt when he turned in her direction. Had he notice her staring? Quickly, she dropped her gaze to her lap and saw, from the corners of her eyes, Cephalus fix those beautiful orbs of his on Procris. Orithyia sighed, knowing it was too good to be true, and blamed herself for acquiring such hopes when she should be very well accustomed to her older sister receiving all the attention by now.

"He looks like a girl," observed Creusa, cutting her chicken ruthlessly.

Orithyia stole a glance at Cephalus and melted when she saw him smile. It was contagious, and she could not help but also simper when she held her chalice to her lips. "Really? I think he's quite attractive."

"Gross," replied Creusa in between her chews.

Orithyia rolled her eyes to the side, not in nuisance but in indifference, and popped a grape into her mouth. Her eyes then casually roamed the room. A few men stared her way. Though their attention might not have been intended at her, the girl still felt repulsed. Her stomach churned uneasily at the way some of them leered at her while licking food off their lips.

Quickly, she raised her eyes upward, eager to avoid the gazes of the men, and studied the sconces and tapestries along the walls. Shadows of the people in the room writhed upon them. Bored of the embellishments that she had seen so many times already, her eyes reached higher yet to the slim blocks of rectangular openings near the ceiling that provided fresh air from the outside. Through one of these vents, the moon could be seen hiding behind a veil of cloud. Out of boredom, Orithyia began guessing the constellations in each opening from an incomplete pattern of stars.

_Orithyia._

The girl aroused from her daze at hearing her name and languidly looked about her for the source of the sound. No one at her table seemed to be expecting her attention. No one in the crowd could have called out to her either, for it was illicit to have a common person directly say the name of a royal member. Thinking nothing of it, Orithyia popped another grape into her mouth.

_Orithyia._

Like a deer aware of a foreign presence within its territory, Orithyia froze, perceiving the sound of her name once more. In the midst of the pandemonium, the voice was faint yet distinct, as if the word was carried along by the wind. A chilling sensation crawled along her skin and her doll-like eyes widened as she recognized that voice –that voice from the woods. She immediately scanned the room. Where was he? Her heart hammered against her chest, threatening to break through. For some reason, her eyes were drawn to the ceiling.

_Yes, look up here._

And there, up in one of the vents, she saw him, the man from the woods. Again, he stared at her with that piercing yet nonchalant gaze of his, burning those rings of blue into her without even trying. A smug grin crept along his lips as he saw her notice his presence. Like this afternoon, he reclined along the vents in an enervated fashion, his head against the side of the wall. His face held a look of amusement instead of death. Orithyia looked about her in panic to see if anyone else noticed him, then looked back. He was still there, those haunting eyes on her. This was definitely no apparition.

Just as she was about to pull on Creusa's arm, the man cocked his eyebrow, widening his mouth into an even bigger grin, then unexpectedly rolled off the side of the building into the night. Orithyia gave a cry of horror and covered her mouth to muffle it. Her drink spilled in the process when her hands moved to her lips.

"Orithyia, are you all right?" the Queen asked. A concerned look overcame the older woman's face.

Orithyia looked from her mother to the vents where the man was at earlier then back to her mother, her hands still on her mouth. "I," she began to relate what she saw, then thought otherwise, "I'm just tired that's all." Was it wise to withhold what she had just witnessed? That man could have been a spy! "No! Mother, I saw . . . I saw a man up in the vents." Orithyia's fingers curled into her mother's sleeves, seeking for comfort.

"Up in the vents?" Queen Praxithea looked up at the edges of the roofs. "Orithyia, are you certain?"

The dark-haired girl hesitated before she answered. Who was that man? Was he a ghost? If so, did he have some sort of vengeance to deal with her? Had she done something to wrong the spirit? A whirl of questions filled her mind. "Could you . . . at least send some men out there to look? I think I saw someone."

The Queen caressed the girl's hand upon her arm. "I will, and you should get some rest too. You don't look very well."

Orithyia nodded in response, then made a move to get up as her mother whispered orders to a guard behind them. The girl understood her mother's apathy. Things like this, false alarms, happened all too often.

"Feel better," said Creusa, rubbing her older sister's shoulder with worried eyes.

Orithyia smiled tiredly, touching her sister back, and walked away. As she did so, she could hear Creusa scoot into her seat and say, "Hello, _Procris._" Orithyia would have giggled knowing what mischief her younger sister was up to, but she was much too terrified at the moment.

The corridors were deserted, for everyone was at the banquet. Only the sounds of her feet _pitter-pattering_ was heard. The path to her room was lit by a sconce every so often, more darkness than light to guide her way. It seemed like such a terrible idea now to go back to her bedchamber –alone too. In her midst of earlier state of panic, Orithyia had not thought to bring someone with her, such as a nurse or a guard. She slowed her pace and turned her head back, wondering if she should return to the feast. The distance to her room was closer than the distance to the grand chamber now. Perhaps, it was better to continue on to her bedchamber.

As Orithyia rushed down the hall, no matter how hard she tried, she could not keep the image of that man out of her head, especially those eyes that sent chills down her spine. The skin along her body tingled at the thought of something coming out of the shadows of the corridors at any moment. With the palms of her hands, she half-covered her eyes, as if that would prevent an attack from an intruder. Tears prickled at the edges of her ducts, fear consuming her entirely. She bit at her lips to stop herself from crying. This was ridiculous. She was almost a woman, and this was how she was acting?

Soon enough, a wave of relief washed through her as a familiar door appeared ahead. Desperately, the girl entered into the living room of the sisters, and she sniffled at how dark it was inside as a lonely ladle of lamp sat at the bureau. Her legs practically leapt across the floor to the entrance of her room. Like an impatient child, she fumbled at the handle of the door. Once opened, she squeezed in and slammed it shut. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized too late that she had forgotten her candle was unlit in here.

Closing her eyes, she turned around and fingered for the handle of the door once more to get out. Her chest heaved up and down as calmly as it could. It was cold –oh, so cold in here. Her mind imagined the layout of her room, and she suddenly remembered the window next to her bed. Was he sitting there now? She slowly sucked in a deep breath and held it, begging the gods for protection. Why was she so scared? There was nothing here. It was all in her mind! It was all in her mind! It was all just in her mind!

_Oh, love, I have waited so long to have you alone._

Orithyia popped her eyes open, knowing that voice too well already. Icy breath moved along the back of her neck and shoulders, causing the hairs at her nape to rise. Then, as cold fingers delicately touched the concaves of her waist, she let out an earth-shattering scream.

* * *

**A/N: **I am extremely sorry for the long wait of Chapter II. Being in college at the moment doesn't give me a lot of free time to write for myself anymore. So, I decided to present to you a longer chapter this time, which will probably be the lengths of most of my chapters from now on. I know that the beginning of this was boring, but hey, the next chapters (as you can see by the ending) will be much, much more interesting. I just wanted to give you a background of Orithyia first. I have my doubts about this chapter though since I wrote most of it in a span of seven days, haha. Yeah, I definitely need to revise it this week. It's probably riddled with grammatical and spelling errors. I also feel as if I did not put enough suspense into it. Please, please tell me if my writing bores you, and I will try to fix it up for next time. As always, thanks for reading!


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